


The Jagged Bolt

by aikotters



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pokemon Generations (Anime)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Romantic Friendship, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-01-27 09:17:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21389767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aikotters/pseuds/aikotters
Summary: Red chases Zygarde. Green chases Red. Pikachu leads the way. And the hope of the children of the world rests in their hands.
Relationships: Ookido Green | Blue Oak & Red
Comments: 11
Kudos: 19





	1. The Journey Down

"At least let me come with you."

Green is a weird specimen to Red. He has so many questions, and not enough answers. Also he demands a lot for someone who doesn't give back in return.

Red doesn't say this because deep down he knows a part of this is because he still feels eleven even now that they're much older and should be beyond this.

But they're not. And Red certainly isn't. His mind stopped up on the mountain because survival outweighed the importance of them and their rivalry, them and their… everything really.

Red shakes his head at Green, earning an irritable scoff.

"What, am I not tough enough? Is that it?"

Red shakes his head again, Pikachu watches. Red normally isn't that quiet, not that uncomfortable with words, but in the face of Green he's always fumbling over his tongue.

As proof that Green, at least, is no longer eleven, he waits for Red to find the words. "I want to be sure I'm coming back."

Green looks at him, through him. His face flushes an embarrassed pink. "We could just leave Blue here. You'll come back for her too. And your mom."

Red shakes his head, smiling a little. "I come back for all of my friends or not at all."

It's really not a comment you make with that expression, but Red is also an idiot. Green forgives him for it.

"Fine," he says. "You have three months. If you haven't mastered Kalosian and dragged us both out for the best food in Miare or found that damn dragon, I'm coming there myself and showing you how it's done."

The cocky smirk plays across both their lips before Blue makes a face and clocks them both upside the head.

Pikachu, from his perch, is pretty sure they deserve it.

* * *

Pikachu knows his human is strange.

He had stayed up on a mountain for years in the freezing cold, teaching Venasaur to endure the chill and making a portable PC transfer system. He defeated Team Rocket with a rush of fury that had made pikachu's veins throb. Because it was his fury. It was marowak's fury. It was lapras and charizard and butterfree's fury. It was all of theirs and they had run wild with it, without any hesitation at all. Every opponent in front of them was meant to be toppled, all for the goal of becoming that master who no one forgot and everyone respected.

Even though he'd been just an early capture, a rarity in a forest because every Pikachu was hunted and stolen and used, he'd been included in this goal. This desire stronger than anyone and anything had pulled them so far, had pulled his human so far.

And now they are in the welcoming land. The pokemon call it "the land of bones and flowers"

His trainer calls it "Kalos".

Both are probably the right names, he is sure, but for now it all feels dreadfully wrong to be here.

But then this was what the humans called "Terminus Cave", so that feeling was likely very natural, very natural indeed.

Red steps forward, towards the gloom. Pikachu pauses for a moment, looking towards the city they had left behind. Then he trails after his trainer, taking a running leap to land on his shoulder. Red barely pauses at the sensation, putting a hand at pikachu's bottom to steady him as he scrambles for proper purchase and turn around to watch Red's back.

It is customary, in places that butterfree isn't safe to fly in nowadays, for pikachu to look behind his trainer and let his ears focus on the front as necessary. At least unless they found one of those human carts again anyway. That got old really fast.

Something rustles in his ear and both perked up. Pikachu's tail twitches. Red scratches his bottom without a word.

Perhaps that is for the best.

* * *

Pikachu hates human transportation. It is secondary only to pokeballs, but in turn those places are the only ones he permitted his trainer to return him barring extreme chill and heat. Snowpoint is a place he did not remember aside from the ruins.

The only thing that makes human transportation worse, is of course, battling on it. The little Pikachu clings for his life to the speeding mine cart as gusts of wind come from the giant bat-dragon's wings.

Red, in his infinite curiosity of all things pokemon, wants to catch it. Pikachu just wants to _survive it, _the same as he has with regigigas and all the other delusional battles he's been thrown into. He has deliberately not evolved so he can, in fact, continue to dodge and even if he couldn't tank an earthquake so hot that is what his light ball is for and he'd keep it that way.

So, pikachu does the smartest thing he can do for his master: smack him on the wrist. Red grumbles complacently enough and lets him not go retrieve the ball he had thrown in the process. They could always check later if they survived this.

When, Pikachu tells himself. When. Zygarde isn't known for their destruction unless creation had already come. It is bound for balance and harmony.

And Red isn't really interested in catching Zygarde. (At least, Pikachu hopes he isn't. That is the last thing they need: champion Red with half a full-powered zygarde.) He is interested in battling it, in meeting it, in identifying with it. But that is just how Red works, really. He is smart enough to do things and dumb enough to think he is the only one who can pull them off.

As long as he doesn't tell pikachu to use thunderbolt on zygarde, they'd probably make it out of this without any fatal wounds.

Pikachu settles in the cart again, letting Red duck down beside him. Red strokes his partner's cheeks with his thumb. Pikachu lets him, bearing the itchy texture of the thumbprint for a few moments. Then he shakes him off and settles on his knee.

"We'll make camp when this ride stops," his trainer promises. Pikachu chuffs agreement, mostly because it means he can take any sort of break. It won't last long, after all.


	2. The Second Core

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt - 100 - company

Green spends a lot of time at home.

Honestly the league should never have introduced him to the idea of a holographic double. They'd ended up increasing his childhood laziness to double time, almost worse than that time before his final exams where he'd raced through to the end of it all with Red, who'd avoided studying by literally running around Pallet Town barefoot only to recite facts and statistics as he'd fled from it all anyway.

Not that it matters, he tends to take the route Giovanni had the entire time: you need seven badges to face the Viridian Gym, if only because it is the easiest way to the Plateau for the first time and, well, due to past experience, he is the best at giving cocky trainers a smack down to their ego.

And since there will be very few of those until late spring (because apparently Viridian winters are awful, he's been through three of them and hasn't gotten frostbite, these kids are just weak) with their terrible jackets (maybe he'll work on fixing that instead, it is better than battling), he has even less to do. He spends his days exercising, reading, studying, anything but active thoughts.

Especially because Red has left without him.

Which isn't new and he probably deserves it. Doesn't make it suck any less. But that was just Red. Red staying at Mt Silver at all had been an exercise in self-control he should have failed.

Didn't, thankfully. Nearly died though, and that had honestly made him worse in some aspects.

_I should have gone with him._

This isn't the first time he'd had this thought either. He is proud of himself (for quite a lot let's be real) that it was his first time thinking about it today

Still, he should have gone with Red, if only to keep the idiot from causing an inter region incident by signing at the wrong ableist diplomatic fan nerd.

Eevee churrs with curiosity at him, nosing the remote to a different channel. "Not everyone wants to watch Egglet Bowl, bud," he tells her, who chuffs in reply. "Yeah you, you dingle. Normal people watch the adoption channels. You watch them play prep for war. Blood Knight."

Eevee snarls playfully, teeth bared, eyes alert.

He scratches behind an ear. "Yea, yea, you're big and scary. The scariest of all eevee. Now hush up, your dad's watching people be stupid on prerecorded stunt crap."

Eevee fusses at him without words.

* * *

Night ticks on, human and Pokemon eventually dozing off on the soft and comfy sofa. This is a regular occurrence. The couch to them, and everyone who visited (what, he was a popular guy!), is infinitely more attractive to stay on than the bed. The grass-water-fire matches over it are legendary and some are on the internet somewhere.

This is where the two of them are when his alarm screeches in rage as one of his windows implodes all over his kitchen floor.

Simply put, being flat on that couch had saves both of their lives.

Of course all the noise wakes them up, Eevee rolls onto all fours and clamber to the back of his couch to growl the most adorably threatening squeaks imaginable. Green doesn't move, remaining still if only to breathe so he didn't draw attention to himself. Eevee is more than enough protection anyway, despite her size.

His partner growls a moment more as his other pokeballs shake, but nothing happens. Finally, Green slinks to the ground and practically Krabby-walks all the way to his alarm. It keeps blaring until he slams his thumb onto the recognition scanner, at which point his head stops ringing like the telephone his sister had made him install. Not that his pokegear won't be blowing up from the police in the next two minutes but he can ignore them. He focuses instead on the broken window, on his eevee picking her way through the glass on the floor.

"Anything," he asks.

"Vee," she replies, clear as mud. Well at least there isn't likely a human intruder or a pokemon trying to kill him. His lights would have turned on to expose it and its stupidity. Green straightens up, grabbing the baseball bat anyway. It can't hurt.

He approaches his kitchen window, finding eevee already sniffing at the projectile. At first glance it just looks like an exceptionally hard piece of iron or charcoal. Then it starts to glow, shining green and the green slowly slipping off like slime and pooling onto his tile. It forms into something green and blue, then blinks mismatched eyes up at him.

Eevee mews at it, pawing close. Green drags himself to the floor, to bring it to eye level. It… seems like a pokemon. He gives it a cautious finger poke, which isn't the most scientific way of approaching the matter but he can kind of not care since it broke one of his meager windows.

It squishes easily against his finger and he makes a face. "Gross." It slips out and away, reforming into its full self again, its eyes staring right at Green's once more.

"Zygarde core identified," chimes his pokedex, the latest model his grandfather had foisted on him in the past few years for the purpose of keeping up with the times and the discoveries that came from international trainers not knowing how to shut their mouths. "No data available for Core Form. Please gather Cells or other percentage forms."

"Are you serious?" His pokedex beeps. "Fine then, be useless." He holds out his hand. "So, what brings you to break into my house?"

The cell crawls up his arm and settled upon his shoulder. "I must reach my other," intones in his head like a dull bell. "We are carrying a great burden, but I was blown away from Terminus Cave quite some time ago. He will search for me, and reach the moon But that is all I know. You are known for great strength. Will you assist me?"

It takes a lot to surprise Green but _convenience _always managed to do it. "All right," he says, smirking. "We'll set out in the morning."

So much for lazing about.


	3. The Central Path

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt 157 - aback

The biggest enemy of any goal, aside from the person trying to achieve it, was time.

This was something Red had heard his mother say once or twice over TV dinners and reruns of reality tv shows.

It was taking a long time to reach the end of Terminus Cave. The cave of the end. The place where many children took their final steps, pulled towards a creature they don't really understand, and most people never bothered to try.

Red let the world wash over him, unconcerned by this. He had an escape rope wound across a wrist, the end magically tied to a post outside, as escape ropes worked. People needed to remember those when they went to hunt down legendaries for their pokedex or something.

_Why do you have to go, _Green had asked. He hadn't sounded pitiful or broken or sad. Just tired, tired, tired again. _Why is it always you?_

He hadn't had an answer then, really. He didn't have one now. Their rivalry had been fun for a while, after all. Pushing each other, fighting for fun. Making a lot of havoc and taking down Team Rocket. It'd all been so exciting, becoming a Champion ranked trainer had only seemed… underwhelming by comparison. None of their battles beforehand had meant anything compared to that. Even though Green was a dick about a lot of things (he had known it then and knew it now) but it wasn't like Red was much better, was much more honest with him. Neither of them really deserved the shit they gave each other, and that was the worst of the lot really.

Red ducked down into the mine cart once more. It was starting to slow again, it's momentum beginning to wane. Good. They would be able to make camp soon. There was little way to tell time outside of the pokegear nearly stapled to his backpack and there was no sunlight or cord to charge it here. And pikachu wasn't going to do that.

His hand brushes his pocket. The cube pulses, comfortably, in the denim, the zygarde core inside sleeping tight. Red grimaces, twists his face a little. He can't help it. This legendary has fallen into his fingers and clung no matter how many boxes he's put them in. But he can't say that to Green, Green gets… tetchy at the thought of Red being special, even if it's by implication and nothing else. He supposes that's Professor Oak's fault, but Green's also kind of lazy…

As his thoughts whirl and swirl back to his ten year old days, the cart slides to a creaking halt. Red waits a moment, waiting for the rustling bat wings to slow down and go to semi silence. Then, his pikachu's cheeks flashing dimly in the dark on his shoulder, he exhales. He climbs out and moves towards the nearest dead end. Once he finds a pocket with a steady three walls and a ceiling with one opening to cover, he puts his pack down and releases his incredible skyscraper of a snorlax. The fat cat groans but settles sleepily in front of the available entrance, snoring away once more. He isn't interested in being fed right now, thank god.

Pikachu zaps some twigs after Red gathers them into a pile. Soon there is a tiny crackling fire and a defrosted pidove roasting away.

For a moment, it is like being at Mt. Silver, or further back Rock Tunnel, only less safe, less familiar. Red remembers twitching and jittering and falling asleep out of sheer terror wearing out his heart and knocking him out instead of being tired. Then Lax gives a belch in his sleep, which sends pikachu back and snarling low and lets Red laugh out loud.

It is better now, he is stronger now.

Sort of.

* * *

Pikachu stirs up, as all smart pokemon do when there is a threat in their midst. Like actual intelligent pokemon, or dead plants coming to life. Or the gods.

Gods with a lower _g_ to be precise. Little kamis who think they have a right to something that they've never known themselves to appreciate. And those are nowhere in sight. Well, all except one. But this is their territory. So Pikachu knows what he is getting into here. He has to know because his trainer doesn't because his Red is a dunderhead.

And that rhymes too.

Pikachu rises to his paws and glances at the cube making an uncomfortable outline in Red's jean pocket. It is silent, thank gods, and hasn't moved likely in hours. Red isn't moving either, sleeping peacefully against Lax. That is good. So either Pikachu was imagining it or Zygarde is actually present and accounted for.

A low growl rumbles through the sleeping form of the snorlax on the other side. Red, being as good as sleeping in uncomfortable situations as a snorlax does not so much as twitch.

Pikachu unfurls from his tightly wound position of future murder and likely a death wish as a dog bounds over Lax's great bulk. Well, if all dogs are green and black. Landing on the other side of the fire, the flames tremble a moment before falling back to the familiar dying crackle.

Pikachu hisses at the creature, the action more perfunctory than threatening. The dog bares its teeth in return, milky white eyes promising the mouse all kinds of hell and uncertainty on how he'd have to handle it.

"Thank you for bringing him to us," intones the god in his head. "I understand it was not an easy decision to make."

"He's the trainer," Pikachu replies, scratching his ear with one hind leg. "Far be it from me to disobey a decision that isn't suicidal."

"Is that truly your reasoning?" There's a strange odor to the words, like disappointment? Pikachu has never figured gods to make emotions humans have. Or mortals rather.

"You haven't told us why you want us here. The fate of the world isn't too important to me, most isn't. But I'll do something if you're clear."

Zygarde settles on its haunches. "Mortals never cease to interest me."

"Can't say the same about you, bud."


	4. Kalos Soil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Gen Novel Bingo prompt 126 - abaft

"Good work Pidgeot, return."

His flying type's job finished and no sign of Red from it, Green settles back on the Lumiose bench he had snagged away from the crazy roller skaters and looks up towards the pristine blue sky. He has spent way too much time in Pewter with Brock and Forrest, he is starting to get used to a tinge of grey. This much bright and blue feels gross. Maybe he really should spend some time with Sabrina after all this is over, make sure her apprentices were fine after all her globetrotting acting tours. At least then the sky would be a little more blue. Or something.

He hadn't known what he'd expected really, finding Red in a city is like finding Daisy at the nearest farm. After their grandpa's ranch, they know better than to try.

Still, he'd looked and found nothing. Which means he is likely already at Terminus Cave that Blue has no idea how to reach. Guy can't slow down for anything, huh?

"Gods I'm hungry." Plane food probably passes for food when it is first made and first class, but that is money and he is a gym leader. He is supposed to give his non-budgeted money to charity or young trainers or something. Which he does. Sometimes.

Still, he probably has money for a burger or something. He digs around in his wallet and leaves his seat.

Some start to his latest adventure.

* * *

Nothing happens for a while. Nothing happens for days.

Then, eventually, Green walks into Geosenge Town.

It sucks that he can't fly. He wants to, but his Pokemon need the energy in case they need to fly later. There isn't much need to overwork them with his own impatience. He figured that out pretty fast on his way to being a gym leader.

The land where the great Ultimate Weapon (super inventive name games, really awesome for sure.) had first been used to end the first Great War (historians were almost as shit at naming things as scientists sometimes), sucking the life out of an entire route's pokemon with the will of an old legend, so they said. Their bodies had buckled on themselves, curling into what people called Mega Stones. They couldn't even become ghosts, sealed in the thing their bodies became. Immortal and contained, forever.

_So what's a Key Stone made out of?_

Unlike Red, it is pretty easy for Green to decide that some things weren't his problem and therefore could let go of thinking about them, scientific curiosity be damned.

Which he does as he approaches, staring down at the rubble of everything Lysandre Labs had ultimately worked for. They'd wanted the world to be wiped clean, a place of nothing but the chosen humans to rebuild the earth. No Pokemon, no animals, nothing but people, the same people for eternity.

The same people, gone mad.

"Lysandre, you were nuts," he tells the pile of rubble. It doesn't talk back but Green was smart enough not to expect it to.

Then, something does.

"That's undoubted, but it wouldn't have mattered once I succeeded."

The man himself, already giant, seemed so much taller against the great spiraling stones. His eyes would have been crimson red once, like Red's but they seem duller now, a paler orange. It had been a while, Green supposes.

"Wouldn't it?" he says, raising a ball. Not eevee's, thankfully. He doesn't need her to double-edge the man's legs, break them, and fall on her. Alakazam is better, and much more useful against a guy who might be immortal. He'd been hit with the life energy of Xerneas right? That is what he'd heard from rumors and hearsay.

"Of course not." His voice is completely calm. "The only people who would have remained were the people who embraced the future I intended to create. That would be all I need. All we would need then is what remained."

"Pretty stupid in hindsight," Green says, if only to hide how uncomfortable the whole thing is. How looking at this madman who has soft eyes and a solemn face and broken, broken hearted. As if he had seen what was coming and he had been more afraid of it than what awaited him now.

"Perhaps." The man shrugs carelessly, ignoring the further tears it did to what must have once been a truly expensive suit. "I cannot regret something I did not see to fruition. Even the loss of pokemon, which would bring me to tears, is not something I regret."

Something in Green bristles, more than that, rejects the notion. As if pokemon were the ones who should pay for humanity's mistakes. That is bullshit. Utter bullshit. He-

The zygarde core leaps from Green's pocket then and up Lysandre's leg then arm, then shoulder.

"I am grateful, regardless, that this one brought you here," Lysandre continues. "The first core is around, the other three will come when two arrive close together. And then they will call upon the cells. And that will be that.""

"And what will be what?" Green asks, swapping pokeballs on his belt with careful swipes of his fingers. Pidgeot is his best way to flee, and more and more this was feeling like a mistake, a fallen into bad habit of pitying the small and helpless and not knowing when to shut the hell up and realize you were played so easily, so foolishly. Like something Red would do.

Lysandre regards him much like Green suspected he regards most of humanity, and that is gross. "And then Zygarde will form, and then I will die, and we of Team Flare will die, and the world will rot."

He says it with such finality that Green almost believes him.

Almost. But not quite.

"Why would you want that?"

"The universe intends to meet its end eventually." He sniffs, as if this is a terrible inconvenience. "To be frank, I intend to be in the ground when the world burns to ash and rock. Watching it and surviving does not seem attractive. Surely you would understand such a thing, as you are. You're only going to live for a hundred years at most, it's nothing for you to worry about. But as it stands it'll be a long eternity for me. Zygarde are capable of remedying such things, and unlike that old fool, I'm not content to wait around for it. Hence why I asked Zygarde for help. They bring the balance to the world you know."

No, Green doesn't know. He'd not paid much attention to myths and legends, they aren't interesting enough. And right now he doesn't really care.

"Come now, helping me will help your friend."

And that grounds Green's feet. "What did _you_ do to Red?"


	5. An Open Mouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Gen Novel Bingo prompt 014 - bat

Zygarde is close. Red can feel them in the cube. The other cores are making it shake, unlike the single blue one who is settled peacefully. Well, as peaceful as a broken legendary could get at times like this. He brushes against it in his pocket, once again ignoring the urge to throw it in his bag and forget about it. The impulse comes more and more the further they trek into Terminus Cave. But then that had also followed him all the way through Mt. Silver. Red is used to ignoring the flight instinct by now. It didn't work well in situations where there was _nowhere to run._

So yeah, in Mt Silver was where you fought. Cities were where you flew because you could hide and make it out alive. And that… what is the worst really.

After all, as a pokemon champion, he really can't run away. There was no flight when you were a master.

So it is better to face it head on and let the chips fall where they would, at least to him. Green would think it was stupid, but Green also lets Blue throw pokeballs at his forehead even though it wn't work. So Green is definitely also an idiot. Yep.

The mine cart rattles to a halt again, its wheels shrieking as they slow. Red clambers out and stretches, legs and arms protesting at the feeling of-

Well it'd just be better on four legs, wouldn't it?

Red shakes his head clear of that thought. It isn't the first time that he'd had it after all. A side effect of being in the mountains for so long, he had often assumed.

He reaches out an arm for pikachu, who clambers up at once and settles on his hat.

"Chaa," the pokemon tells him, disgruntled. Red almost laughs, but he gets a tiny knock on the head for his trouble of even trying not to.

Red reaches into his bag and pulled out a flashlight, batteries replaced recently, thank you mom. The light doesn't take up much of the darkness, but it is enough that down here, he ca see his feet. Maybe on his way back, Charizard would feel comfortable lighting the way. Or there'd be a hole big enough that they could fly out of. Red was hoping more for the latter, honestly. It had been a while since he'd let Charizard out for a good one. Green handles all of their excess fighting energy since his Pokemon were just as bad but nothing was the same as the sky spreading out around you, seemingly boundless and mercilessly beautiful.

"Animal boy," whispers in his ears, echoing off of the cave walls.

He ignores it and keeps walking. He doesn't have time. Not for ghosts of the past, not for anything of the sort. The present is right in front of him. Or something. He isn't sure.

With only his feet and his partner's occasional snuffles and ear twitches, Red listens to water drip, to small pokemon rustle in and out by his feet. Each sound doesn't make him shift, or alarm, or scatter, like it had the first year in Mt. Silver. Pikachu's tail shifts to comfortably stand up straight but that is all.

_Glorious._

The single word fills his brain like smoke in lungs, slowly, without warning, more a sensation of acidic warmth than something welcome. Still, Red has a espeon. He knows better than to be disgusted and afraid on the surface, let alone at all.

_What a strong force of will you have._

_Are they mocking me?_

It isn't like he was a stranger to it, but pokemon are often much more straightforward. Or at least the ones that weren't former, related, or invested in human culture. Agatha would call them remnants of the old ways when pokemon and human had no distinction, or something. There was only so much of that rambling a person could take after all, especially from Agatha, who ran on irritation and spite and bitter coffee a lot of the time.

_We don't have time for mockery, child of the cube. Now come._

Red glances at Pikachu, who only rolls his eyes in what is a human gesture and not much more and all his fault as the trainer for encouraging it.

Still, Red obeys, and he goes.

The cave itself, especially the further he went down, is ugly. Train tracks warped with rust and bloody hands, people left garbage that had rotted away and almost smelled pleasant now, or at least better than what it used to be.

Or what Red assumes it used to be anyway.

The tunnel around him steadily grows darker, and the light soon only came from pikachu's occasional sparks from his cheeks and the poor torch. But his eyes, as they had in Mt. Silver, adjusted, leaving him able to tell the rocks apart. Brock would be proud now. He knows every type of rock he can all of them would be fine meals for his or Jasmine's Pokemon.

Then the soft smell of wind tickles his nose. He wrinkles it with a frown on his face. Why was there wind coming through a cave from this far down?

Red lifts his head and opens his eyes wide. The stars twinkle back at him. He looks away and then back again. And then on the now visible mouth opening overhead, a single twinkling green light sitting at the edge like a shooting star that had just landed. The green and black dog walks out from that light and stares down at him with milky white, pupil-less eyes.

At his side, pikachu begins to spark once more, sparking and shining with a vivid yellow that is tinged blue.

_Your partner truly does dislike me._

"I don't blame him."

Red wishes he could say he loved pokemon shamelessly with all of his heart, and that there were no bad pokemon in the world, only bad humans. But he's been around enough to know that isn't true, and that even being bad or good isn't a sign you would be right or kind.

Zygarde, who stands before him now, is not a bad pokemon. But it is not benevolent. It is merely here to have him facilitate a means to an end. Just as it had been the day he first met it, six months ago.


	6. The Fall of a Lion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Gen Bingo 063 - wool
> 
> Warnings: Classism, elitism, near death experiences, trauma.

Lysandre had started off, as all philanthropists and monsters do, really, thinking he could save the world. Not only that it could be saved, but that he was the best one to save it. The only one to save it. So he started small. He helped people, he invented products that helped the land. He created shelters, made pockets of growth.

Like all people who, in Green's opinion, think they're smart, well-learned, and experienced in life, Lysandre experiences failure. Green for once, counts himself lucky he had gotten that one out of the way early.

But people still hunger and hobble their way to him and ask for help. They did not all suddenly gain the ability to survive and thrive in the beautiful glass ceiling world he'd been born to as a king. They'd still needed him.

And he, who had internalized himself as a self-made man, resents them for needing him. Resents them for not picking themselves up and returning the favor and being fine.

"Laying it on thick, aren't they?"

Lysandre's voice is as dry in person as it is on video. "They make me sound so ordinary."

"Lots of people feel entitled." Green adjusts his seat on the log. "You're nothing new."

The man makes a face but it seems more directed to the dirt he is sitting on than Green himself. Which really proves Green's point, honestly. Lysandre couldn't have been a real trainer, more of a fantasy of one at best, where you talk about how strong you are as you speed across the world underneath your feet. Badge limit or not, you float the idea of travel and don't get dirty.

To Green there is nothing really wrong with that, it is a type of trainer, but in turn they are not meant for trainer life, not the kind that feels their pokemon's pain anyway. Red would call it soft, but Red roughs it in Mt Silver. Most anything is soft to that idiot.

Still, pampered trainers are the worst about not sleeping in a swanna feather down sleeping bag or even having it touch nature. That is what they are for. If they aren't keeping you dry and getting torn up by branches or keeping in the heat from the sun then what are they actually doing?

Fancy packing materials and prestige, Green figures eventually, but doesn't say.

Settled on today's philosophical debate, he finishes hammering in the tent, wincing the few times his hand meets the hammer. But there are no ingrown fingernails to show for it or whatever so he figures he is good.

Lysandre sits gingerly on the log and watches as he shuffles his own sleeping bag in there with his things held higher overhead courtesy of a rope on the tent and a carefully sprayed repel over a tree.

"It's hard to forget how to do these things isn't it?"

Green shrugs. "I'd give you my spiel from my survival course for gym graduation but you wouldn't believe it. I have practice and that's all that matters."

"Is practice enough to overcome talent?"

Green thinks about it, thinks about Red, thinks about the way he'd buried himself in studying and battle and everything that real life told you isn't going to last forever. "Yeah," he finally says. "But that's because talent needs practice."

Lysandre scoffs and Green raises an eyebrow. He hadn't asked the creepy old man his opinions on life and the future anyway. Considering he'd tried to destroy everyone's for the sake of self-proclaimed beauty, Green is definitely not interested in seeing his opinion.

For Red, he reminds himself. To get Red off of another buneary brained scheme of saving people. That's all this arrangement is.

* * *

Green wakes to something squirming on his chest. He opened his eyes to the Zygarde Core, staring at him with their mismatched eyes.

Thankfully, having an older sister had its perks of letting him be able to not change his expression a lick just because of something startling him or trying to be horrifying. He instead pokes it. "What do you want?"

"We must go now," it tells him, unconcerned. "Leave him. We must go."

"Didn't you want me to bring him along?" Green mumbles. He has an alakazam who will be jealous of the fact that he is currently sharing his brain with some other creature but would have to deal with it. Legends are not something you want to lose your grey matter over.

"Indeed we did," agrees the small creature with an annoyed head bob. "But circumstances have changed. The death bringer is approaching and we would rather they not come along and strike while we are weak."

Green turns this over. After the defeat of Team Flare, Yveltal had disappeared. Everyone had assumed to hibernate or something. Xerneas had wandered off as well, but people often saw great, beautiful rainbows in dying areas of land that came to life within minutes or hours.

"Aren't you supposed to look after them?"

"We are, however-" The creature makes a noise that could almost be mistaken for a sigh. "We are not to stop them from correcting an error in the universe. The old one is living by the will of the life-bringer and for a purpose we are yet to obtain the definition of. That is not true for this one. For balance to be returned, we have to at least let the death bringer _attempt _to correct the mistake they feel they made. And whether that succeeds or fails, it would be unwell for you to be in the thick of it, would it not?"

Green does not ask anymore, and pulls himself up from his sleeping bag. He releases his alakazam as he does so, walking towards a tree to relieve himself. As he does, alakazam packs his tent and sleeping bag and everything away neatly in his bag.

Green glances back only once, and that is to return his pokemon.

And as he strides away, he begins to run at the sound of a horrible shriek. Even far away from the sound and smell of instant rot, Green does not risk to camp again, nor does he sleep and dream.

The screaming only continues on when he shuts his eyes.


	7. Six Months Ago

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Gen Novel Bingo 149 - plant
> 
> Warnings: Sensory overload, curse of glory, cursing

Red, after much convincing and quite a lot of thought and planning, descends from the peak of Mt Silver on charizard for what was hopefully the last time. Hopefully, according to the rest of the world, unfortunately for his, as he is rather fond of the cold bitter place by now.

Not that his pokemon would complain. Even snorlax and charizard, built for the cold, are all too happy to collapse the cave they had been using for a resting ground for years. Red could only have faith that they didn't damage the ecosystem too much with that stunt.

That all said, even Red has to admit that landing in Pallet Town was a welcome change, if only to purchase clothes that could keep him comfortable and replace his shoes and bag.

Also, mom's smile. So relieved and happy. So overjoyed without words. She signs to him her love and her grief and everything she has always promised him, but it still takes Red a few days to not see the guilt and reproach in every movement of her hands.

Of course he signs back apologies, and his love and his hopes they will stay longer or that his pokemon took away the choice, but she still says:

"You can always wander off somewhere else."

Which again, is true, and maybe that is why he isn't feeling that urge. Maybe some other regions, but not for years and years of time.

Then again, if Blue keeps barging into his house like he lives there and not a few minutes away, he'll have to reconsider.

"Come on hatass, we're going somewhere."

Red refuses. He isn't going anywhere while Green is sitting on his pelvis like he doesn't weigh over a hundred pounds.

"You pick up your charizard for exercise. Come on lazy, haul ass."

Why?

"You need a passport, we're going to Alola next year to check the Battle Tree's standards for Lance. Scott wants to see if it can be considered an offshoot of his Battle Frontier like in Unova's White Forest." Green digs his thumbs into the soft, warm flesh the back of Red's knees.

Why both of them?"

"Because they need two second opinions and Anabel's busy wrapping up the Aether Foundation. It'll look good." Green shrugs. "It's just a mess of politics and you owe him after bouncing off to Mt. Silver and not letting him retire and raise his kids."

_Ugh._

Green snickers. "Yeah I know, it's the PWT all over again, where you get to sweep literally everyone, yes poor put upon Redhead."

Red thumps him on the arm. He gets smacked for his trouble. "C'mon, let's go, before your mom thinks we're doing things up here."

Red agrees, if only to get the idiot off of him. If only to get the ball of nerves doing something productive, like not babbling and insulting and being a general pain. Which, he supposes, is fair. They hadn't seen each other in a couple of years.

Most people thought that Red and Green, whose rivalry was so famous trainers often toted it as a sign of a real legend in the works, were always like that. If your rival wasn't your rival in anything and everything, you weren't really on the journey to be the best like no one ever was. But, well, aside from some topics, Red thought they were getting along just fine. Of course Green used their repeated rainy, heartfelt apologies and fistfights in the dead of winter as an excuse to be as careless with his personal space as possible, but then, Green was also mostly raised by Daisy, who had no interest in a thing like boundaries.

He is also nosy and interested in being right, and neither of them can quite let that one go.

So Red has followed him, and endures hours of pictures and prodding and paperwork thankfully without paper. Red can appreciate that kind of advancements in technology, even if right now being able to see people see where he was with GPS was super uncomfortable. As soon as he can, he would turn that off.

At least Green has the good sense to let him walk home by himself. Or maybe it was the bad sense and his expression had been less controlled and more bedlam on whoever dared to use Common to him for the next seventy-two hours.

Perhaps that is why when the little green creature had climbed up the side of his leg without much preamble, he hadn't been too upset.

"It is time to bring forth the equilibrium," he had heard in his mind, much like the mewtwo he had let out in Cerulean Cave to run to Johto. "I need you to bring me across the lands and seas. Even the journey from Alola to here was wearying on my body. If the people there had done their task we would not be speaking now. So I turn to you, so-called greatest trainer, to get me there."

Red listened to this. He had seen quite a bit over the years, including talking Pokemon. Nothing truly compared to Mewtwo after all. He'd been asked for help by Pokemon as well. But this, this was more like those escort missions in old video games. At least he could hide this one.

"All right," he says, eventually. He coughs, voice a little hoarse from monosyllabic responses and those only. "What first?"

Only hours ago he had thought about settling, or at the very least, not leaving. But within a day, humans had dragged him out of that idealistic thought very, very quickly.

Maybe that was just the kind of creature he was, a child of habit and mistrust and misanthropy. If he was like this, that didn't say much about Blue. So for his best friend's sake, Red certainly hoped not.

Still, for the moment, it could be okay to just indulge that feeling of wanting to run away. This time he'd definitely come back. If not his mother would kill him. And that was not how he wanted his autopsy to ready.

Pikachu chirrups at him from his other shoulder, looking at the little green thing with something like disgust.

Red, for the life of him, couldn't fathom why at the time.

He does now.


	8. The Weakness of Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Gen Novel Bingo 025 - nation

Green reaches Terminus Cave in silence on a sunrise.

Well, not silence on his companion's part, but silence on his own and that of the zygarde. He supposes pokemon don't really need to concern themselves with conversation after all of that. Lysandre however, keeps up a low torrent of muttering and disenchantment and pained groans when he's caught up a few days later.

"I thought Oaks were meant to be supportive, caring individuals, who didn't leave people to the mightyena," he says one day in a particularly low hiss as his legs thud audibly against the dirt where he stops. Green doesn't look. "I suppose that was a mistake to assume."

"Assuming does make an ass out of you and me," Green eventually says with a look of dislike directed at the nearby river. "And hey, bud, I'm not the one using myths and legends to end the entire planet. That's far out of my purview."

"Then why are you lugging your useless carcass here?"

Oh so this is what he sounded like without an audience. Green is gonna keep that in mind next time he sees a documentary on the "tragic fall of Lysandre Labs" on TV. Hah. There's no tragedy about it. This guy is a piece of toxic waste walking. And that was an insult to grimer.

He swallows the bile and rage bubbling in his gut. Yeah, sure, he and gramps often battled it out and had their moments and _yes_ he can be an ass himself sometimes if he is really strung up in his guts about it, but that doesn't mean that he loves the man any less than a grandson ought to a good man. His old man is just that, old and set and tired and so many other things. And no one that isn't family or as good as got to insult him like that. Especially not a genocidal ass hat who thought the world should come to him on bended knee and begged to live.

"Do you realize how much pain being made to die and then _not dying _is for a person?" the man continues, eyes almost bulging from their sockets as he twitches and struggled with every step. (Green can see it in the reflection of the water and he'd rather not.) "What reconstructing from _nothing _feels like? Do you have any understanding of that pain happening over and over, for hours and hours upon end for no reason?"

"Not in the slightest," Green finally replies, turning his favorite smirk onto the guy. "And honestly, as long as it's happening to you, I don't care."

"People like you are the reason I attempted to make the move I did in the first place."

"Just say you were gonna pull a Noah's Ark and be done with it or shut up man." Green finally snaps, turning to face the smirk of pride on the man's face. "You can just say you were going to destroy all life to get rid of the poor people, don't try and act holier than thou because you think saving the world means a bunch of ugly immortal posers in jumpsuits. You don't get to tell me how terrible I am because I'm not a bleeding heart for leaving you to get what you're owed."

"Is that so?"

"Honestly?" Green shrugs and turns back towards the cave. "Yeah, it is. We can't control our feelings, but you sure as shit can your actions. And every action has consequences. So even the people you like would have pissed you off eventually. Except you'd have been stuck with them, and not me. And now you can't. So you're trying to die like you tried to do everyone else in. Brah-vo."

"Boy-"

"I am twenty-three years old. You don't get to call me _boy_ because your silk boxers are in a twist." Green is enjoying himself now, the flush of ruining a peasant's day back in his veins. He can't do this as a gym leader, he has to pretend those little bastards have potential (and some of them even did, surprisingly) and can be considered hopeful contenders worth fighting. This guy? He was a joke. "I should take it as a compliment though, considering all it took to get you down was three kids, a puzzle box and a very smart, very kind legend. The insult isn't very good anyway."

The choked noise behind him feels great.

"Yeah I'm glad Red kicked my ass before I came into you." He shrugs his shoulders, feeling the weight of them. "Sure sucked at the time but I'm better off hearing what a bastard I can be from my own mouth, so I don't keep making the mistake. You though, you didn't listen did you? You decided you were too good to be wrong, too many bad things happened and if they weren't the worst in the world they weren't your responsibility and even then, I bet."

The footsteps behind him quicken and Green drops alakazam's ball for his partner to cross his spoons like you would swords and hold the man wriggling in the air. Green turns to look at him properly and makes a face.

"You really do look like shit," he says. The once probably beautiful suit really is rags now, one of his eyes is filmed over, his hair a once proud pyroar's mane half gone, his nails down to nubs, both shoes gone and feet practically raked over with popped blisters. Red stands out over ashen grey on his skin.

"You could have prevented that."

"Yeah, by dying." Green rolls his eyes. "You're not worth dying for. And besides, mistakes are meant to be lived with, not died over. All things considered, not worth fighting."

"I suppose that documentary was right. Oaks have no ambition too."

"Agatha was a jealous crone, betrayed by higher expectations than my old man deserved." He continues to walk, lifting the Zygarde core onto his palm again. "Show me the way, smarty-pants."

They do, and the group continues to walk into the gloom.

There is a smell like ozone in the air, and Green internally groans. What was Red doing _now?_


	9. Three and One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Gen Novel Bingo 062 - vigorous

Of course, over time, Red has come to rely on his best friend, his pikachu, for everything. Imagine his surprise when a good zapping does nothing more than cause the green and black dog to shake its ears in distaste.

Not that pikachu hadn't wanted to. He doesn't like it either.

_"Come now,"_ it says in his head. _"You didn't really think that would work, now did you?"_

"Had to try," Red had said at the time, earning his pikachu the right to facepalm.

A few brick breaks and some magnetic train tracks later, the wonder of Pika getting his ass profoundly handed to him by type advantage is gone and honestly Red just wants to be done with it.

They'd spent the past two days on and off fighting, if only to help zygarde summon as many of its mindless cells as possible. Due to the sheer distance and the amount of time it has been since they had more than a single core in one body, they need someone to call the cells back and build up their endurance.

Not _exactly _what Red had thought he was getting into when he signed up for this, mind. It wasn't Mt. Silver, however, so it counted as an improvement.

He moved to return Pika, but as he did, his arms and legs started to tingle. He paused and the tingling spread, up his shoulders and down to his feet until his whole body felt as though it were vibrating, thrumming like a fresh guitar string being tuned.

The little zygarde's milky eyes turn to the hole in the ceiling they had leaped through before. _"Oh,"_ they said in a dry voice _"It's you. What a pleasure Xerneas."_

_"Greetings, Zygarde."_ What looked to Red like a blue deer glowing in rainbow light settled onto the roof of the cave. They lean back, not bunching their legs, and launch themselves down to them._ "I am delighted to find you in good health."_

"As good health as can be."

If Red was Green right now, he'd be backing away slowly and escaping, after cursing to the gods that had run their world roughshod for so long. Then again if he was Green, he _probably _wouldn't be in this situation.

But even Red knew that seeing more than one legendary in a lifetime, let alone in the same room and not being expected to kneel or flee for your life was not a good thing. It was like with politicians. If they wanted something and you weren't giving it, there would be trouble.

_"And I see you brought that human with you."_ There was another tingling sensation, this one down his spine. The pointed head turned to look at him. _"Pleased to meet you, Red of Pallet. Mewtwo spread word of you and your legacy."_

"I am too young for a legacy," he blurted out before he could stop himself.

The legends laughed. In his head.

Of course they did.

_"And humble too,"_ Xerneas mused. _"Well, in any case, it is still a pleasure. We are grateful for your assistance."_

"I still don't know what I'm doing," he admitted.

Xerneas turned to him and bowed their narrow head. "I suppose that is not a surprise. Zygarde is not fond of making sense of things for people outside of his head."

Zygarde grumbled softly, and pikachu laughed, climbing up to Red's shoulder once again.

_"In short,"_ Xerneas continued as if that had not happened. _"Once Yveltal arrives, we are going to begin erasing the anomalies known as Team Flare and their leader Lysandre, for the sake of rebalancing life and death. Unlike the first, a bitter man who we were young and not prepared to deal with, these were an accident. And accidents must be cleaned up. Unfortunately the half a zygarde that was here was attacked many a century past and the cells and cores escaped to Alola and other regions. So we need to accelerate the cells returning to Terminus Cave so Zygarde's power can be equal to ours once more, for this accomplishment."_

Red immediately wanted to ask why, but stopped, more out of the gears turning in his mind than any real fear of being wrong. He thought about it. "Are you two more powerful than zygarde?"

_"Together we can be, yes."_

Zygarde let out a noise like a snarl mixed with a scoff.

_"Don't pretend to be strong, old one."_ Xerneas raised their head up to the sky once more. _"Ah, the final one arrives. Excellent timing, as per usual."_

Red frowned further, and on his shoulder, his pikachu started to shiver, curling up around his neck and squeaking and whining in fear. He reached out to pet him on the head.

"What's the matter?" he murmured to him.

PIkachu let out frantic chirping noises and squeaks and he pressed the ball gently to his head to return him.

All he'd remotely gotten out of that was, _the end is coming, the end is coming, run red run,_ and Red wasn't even sure where to start running to.

_"Be at ease, if you can,"_ Xerneas murmured._ "Yveltal is an intimidating presence, it is so, but it is an inevitable one. Everything must come to an end, such as it should be. Do not bow to death. You have not done so before, and it is not your time. For that is why it is you who came first."_

Much like before, Red felt his entire body quiver. Unlike the soft tingling of before, however, this was a crawl, like wurmple on his spine and then replacing his spine. He made to breathe and it.

Just.

Stopped.

He knew his lungs were still working, he knew he was still breathing, but it didn't feel like he was moving, just a fragile, but known stillness to everything he ever was, is or could be.

Then he heard wings flap.

Well, it was more that he felt it. The wings were larger than his body and beat down small gusts as they rose and fell.

The red and black bird did not land, merely stayed above, regarding them all like ants.

_Green was right, _Red thought to himself. _I'm an idiot._

Hopefully, he survived this so he could tell him so.


	10. Two and Three and One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Gen Novel Bingo 164 - dogs

Green isn't there to see the legends arrive, but much like Red, he feels them. For the second time in his life, Green Oak feels small. And, in short, he does not enjoy the sensation. He is not a small person. He is, at the lowest, a big fish in a small pond.

Lysandre, still trapped in Alakazam's telekinesis, laughs at him.

"That's a good look for you," he says in a sandpaper voice because Green has to let him breathe. "Scared and wounded. It's nice to see it on someone else's face."

"Bite me, asshat," Green says without heat or thought, really. Insulting people is a former pastime, he'd be a much better person if he'd forgotten it now.

"That would sting if your voice wasn't shaking."

"I'm sure."

Green keeps walking, towards the sensation that give him pins and needles of course. Because where you find danger you find Red and danger is something face together or not at all, if his granddad is as smart as he thinks he is.

Besides, it'd be a good place to drop the world's ugliest human coffee strainer. Even if it'd be a mild inconvenience for a supposedly immortal guy, it was an immortal guy without pokemon. It would take some time, and imagining it could be entertaining in the wrong places.

"_Sometimes you remind me that you're the boy who almost let Team Rocket get away."_

Green's smirk dies on his face.

"Shut up Kazu."

The alakazam radiates contentment and Green scoffs, glancing down another path.

"Trouble in paradise?" asks Lysandre dryly.

"Always," Green shoots back, still not looking at him. It makes things easier to get done. "Where are your pokemon anyway?"

"Gone." His response is quick, sharp. There was something to that. Green, with no idea how far he had to walk, and alakazam not being kind enough to knock the bastard unconscious to leave him to his thoughts, decides to wiggles his finger into it and see if it bleeds.

He isn't Red, the world wasn't gonna let him pretend he wasn't terrible.

"Where to?"

"They left, most of them." Short, clipped, unwilling to dwell, unwilling to think, unwilling to consider the rest. "They all scattered eventually. Without their pokeballs, and with their injuries it was death or abandonment. Even my gyarados, I'm afraid."

Attempting to sound casual, easily failing.

"Must have been lonely." The words slipped out and Green almost wishes he could take them back. Almost, because he would really have only replaced the last one with "humbling". Much more likely to sound distant rather than sympathetic.

There was no way he was gonna have sympathy for this prick. Not a chance.

"And what would you know about loneliness?" bites out Lysandre. "No one has ever left you willingly."

"Oh no," Green says, smiling with acidic glee and thinking of a mountain wracked with blizzards and the way a kindly woman had been with sobs from the silence from her son. "A lot of people have. And I've deserved it. And I've been trying to grow out of it for years. What the hell is your excuse old man?"

Lysandre doesn't answer, and really, Green didn't expect him to.

* * *

The sensation of someone walking over his grave soon drives out all other conscious thought from his brain. He just keeps moving because Red is ahead. His best friend, his rival, his… other things. He did not describe it. He can not. He is twenty-three and he has years to decide what to do with his life. He is not going to walk in there and die. He is not going to walk in there and not walk out. Screw the name Terminus Cave anyway.

"I loved Augustus." Lysandre finally says after a while, forcing him to think actively and not be stupid and not do it. "I still do sometimes. He could have lived with me in the perfect eternity, without change."

"And lost all his students in the process."

"There must always be sacrifices for these things."

"I guess you were the sacrifice."

Lysandre stops talking, and Green does not regret because -finally- he sees that familiar red ball cap and dark hair, staring, unflinchingly at the monsters above his head, dwarfing the great room with their presence.

Just the sight of him makes the weight in Green's chest ease a little.

_Oh, what we do to each other, _he thinks, and smiles at the stupid soppy feeling of it.

The core in his pocket made a noise of distaste. Then it hops free and keeps hopping until it reaches the green and black dog.

Red turns and looks at him, and no his heart doesn't stop this time. Instead he smirks the pressure of life and death off of his shoulders. As if waiting for that moment, his alakazam drops the man onto the ground with a very satisfying thud and immediately returns himself. The sound causes Red to raise a silent eyebrow in inquiry.

Green only shrugs and sidles up beside him. "What are we doing?"

Red refrains from commenting, turning instead to the green and black dog. He raises a pokeball and Green finds his mouth twisting into a real smile.

"So," he says. "Business as usual."

"Quite," reverberates into his skull in a smooth but flat voice. That is the only way Green can use to describe it. It would be an attractive voice in a man, if it sounded a bit more real. More humanity in it, he supposes would help. "Without a cell gathering apparatus, the easiest method to make a zygarde is pressure. And battle is an easier way to do so without, well, torture."

Green tries to imagine even thinking of torturing a monster of that nature and shivers.

Red manages a smile and says. "Fun, right?"

"A blast." Green pulls out a new pokeball. "Dragon?"

"And ground."

"Brilliant." He tosses out his gyarados, who roars at annoyance at the seemingly too low ceiling. Stupid baby. She hasno sense of style. "Ice beam the lot."

Red manages an actual smile and grunts, pulling out Lapras.

"You had best hurry," warns the voice, and the gentle canter of the deer told Green it was Xerneas speaking. "Yveltal has never been the most patient. They will act soon."

"No pressure," Green says wearily, looking at the dog standing regal before them. "Only the manifestation of the plague and death. No biggie."

Red finds a second to elbow him in the ribs. Green doesn't mind, even over the sound of Lysandre's disbelieving sounds.


	11. Awash With Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Gen Novel Bingo 049 - bath

"There _would_ be an unexplored hot spring in the death god cave."

"... he's not a death god Blue."

"He's a he?"

Red pauses. "I dunno."

"Then don't call him a "he" idiot." Green sinks into the water. "It's like rude."

"Oh." Red nods. "Sorry."

"'s fine." It's really not a big deal, but considering Green has been trying to escape the guy for days, he figures they can respect the pokemon's gender, or lack thereof. They sit quietly for a while. "You know, we need to go for a real vacation sometime."

"Mm."

"Don't be like that. It'd be good for you, sun, sea, pokemon battles that don't have something in the balance, me being my usual charming self. What more could you want?"

"Quiet." Red's voice is extra flat.

"Oh buzz off," Green replies, noticing Red's faint, amused smile. "You love the sound of my voice. That's why you didn't shove me off of the mountain."

"Mm," Red agrees, well enough. Because it is true and denying it will just be stupid.

Besides, the look of flabbergasted shock his friend wore when he'd been called right was too good to resist.

Green puts it out of his mind and continues to soak.

"This is… a whole lot bigger than I thought it would be," Red admits after a while. The words are slow, words have always been slow for him so he chooses not to make them after a while. "I just meant to help a pokemon without politics, is all."

"It's you, it's always going to end up bigger than your ego."

Red makes a face of disgust but doesn't disagree. So they sit in silence, until they could swear the water is getting cold.

Despite the comforting promises of the legendaries, the slowly looming wrath of Yveltal close by, able to easily render Lysandre in a useless heap, Red lets snorlax out to cover them both. Green, surprisingly, doesn't' stop him. The exhaustion and effort of the past few days has hit them both and soon they're both unconscious.

Green doesn't dream of the dead or the living, really. What he dreams of instead is highly embarrassing and he has to hide in a corner of the cave until he feels better, face burning. It's a dream that he can pretend later is casual and unimportant, but fills him with comfort all the same.

He does learn one thing that night. On the other side of the snorlax, Lysandre snores and it sounds like the rumbling of the ancient giant pyroar.

It's almost sobering to think, to know that this man is likely going to die tomorrow, and that's what he wants more than anything in the world.

If that's what immortality does to you in this short of a time, how could a legend survive three thousand years?

_It's a mystery for a less exhausting night,_ Green decides and goes to lay back down. And if he's a little closer to Red, well, none of them are complaining.

Well, except Red, who claims that he wiped drool off a shirt sleeve like a liar. And a jerk.

* * *

Green is woken up by a chill running down his spine. Unlike death's previous heavy weight of rage and fury dogging his steps as he fled through the night, Green feels death now behind him the steady way it has always been there, only cold. Only in absence.

He opens his eyes and sees Red's staring at him. "Were you watching me sleep," he asks because if so when this is over they need a different conversation like: immediately.

Red shrugs like it doesn't matter, which means that they definitely have to have this conversation. "For five minutes."

Green huffs and pretends that it's not flattering. "We'll have words about this later."

"Mm." Red rolls over and sits up like him forgetting how neurotypical human conversation works is supposed to be a turn on. "Not now?"

Green stretches. "Course not, idiot, we have a megalomaniac to make sure dies correctly without destroying the local ecosystem."

"Sounds boring."

"Listening to you two is just as mind numbing," drawls Lysandre from the other side which kills the amusement floating in Green's brain immediately. He wants to hurl something nasty at the xenophobic asshat with a neckbeard, which Daisy will tell him is a bad thing to think because of stereotyping but he doesn't care. They were having a moment, a moment! "Get on with it. Some of us have important appointments to attend."

The bile runs up Green's throat until Red says with the perfect enunciation of an utter bastard. "Some of us have important appointments to live our lives. You're just not one of them."

Green almost howls he's laughing so hard.

But the bastard is right. He pulls himself up, dusts off his clothes and goes to eat. Snorlax continues to grumble as Red pets his giant bulk, feeding him another basket of berries he probably keeps in his backpack for these situations of impossibility.

It's not that he's not in a hurry for this to end, because he is, very much, in a hurry. But he doesn't particularly want to go home, and Yveltal sending death magic at one guy seems too simple.

"It feels like we're missing something," he says. "Not that I had much to begin with following you around, but still."

Red nods over his latest disgusting looking MRE. Heathen"Pikachu thinks so too."

"The mouse has more brain cells than the human."

Green wants to roll his eyes and all Red says back to Lysandre is "It's Pikachu."

Green snorts. He will have to work harder to get under Red's skin. Red's lived with him his whole life.

"Still, you're correct. That is how the deities are." Lysandre pauses. "Mostly. Ho-oh and Lugia liked humans until two hundred years ago."

"One hundred fifty," Red corrects which sends Green's eyebrows into his hairline. Red read the history books?

Lysandre chortles. "No, two hundred. Ho-oh was recorded to be stubbornly convinced of humanity's worth, which is why I did not attempt this in Johto, where it would have worked better because even now Ho-oh is considered an idealist's god. Lugia, however, would understand me perfectly and have carried it out better but Ho-oh disagrees on general principle."

"You sound like a child."

"You've never met poor children who put down their hope." Green can't see the man, but he can imagine the dour look on his face, so heavy with rage and fury and maybe a dash of guilt but he doubts it. "Or rich ones. The children with money who put their hope down are the worst. Their parents just didn't bother with anything like challenges until hormones hit so they leave the tutorial as awful people."

"Rather like you," Green says without missing a beat.

Lysandre actually laughs and it sounds like death. "Why do you think I advocated so hard for genocide?"

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings! Another story? Yes but it's basically done, so I will continue to post it regardless. Again, it's fairly short and a little uncontrolled but trust me, it will hopefully be a fun little character study. Also shout out to my artist Midu! for being awesome!
> 
> Challenges: Gen Novel Bingo: 135 – surround, Specials Novella masterclass 7, Pokemon Big Bang.


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